


bad ideas ( and slushies )

by arcanebond



Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-07-27
Packaged: 2018-12-07 19:43:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11630565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arcanebond/pseuds/arcanebond
Summary: it's two am and marcel can't sleep so he contacts the one person usually up this late.





	bad ideas ( and slushies )

**Author's Note:**

> ahh it's been a long time since i wrote and finished a fanfic but i just couldn't get the scenario out of my mind -w-

Marcel couldn't sleep. His legs ached, a dull and unexplainable pulse that compelled them to twitch and fidget. It had him tossing and turning uneasily, never quite able to get comfortable. A heavy head and a restless body didn't make for a pleasant combination, leading him to stare at the screen of his phone after two uneasy hours of attempted sleep. The screen was too bright, even with the brightness turned down as low as it could get, making him squint. Two in the morning, who would even be up? The answer was an immediate one. 

'Hey Robert. You up?'

Generally the later he messaged Robert the more prompt his results were, man seemed like a real night owl. Marcel had been woken up on multiple occasions after an entire day of waiting on a reply. He held his breath, but it didn't look promising as five minutes passed with no answer. And then another five. Hope was wearing thin until finally...

'No'

Oh. Well. Marcel might have preferred no answer at all.

'Sorry for bothering you.'

Annnnnd there he went, bothering him more. Why couldn't he use critical thinking skills for once in his life? "Ughhh," a groan of despair left him. Now he really wasn't going to get to sleep, the familiar creep of anxiety knotting his stomach as he contemplated just how this one single interaction could have completely blown all of the progress he'd made with his and Robert's friendship. It was all pretty hyperbolic, but what better time to exaggerate one's failings than fuck early in the morning when the world stood still and there wasn't much to provide a proper distraction. Just as he was preparing to break the news to Amanda that they needed to move because he brought shame upon their family name with a single message his phone went off. 

'Hey'  
'Hey'  
'Don't make me sit here all night'  
'We're wasting precious throw rocks at shit time'  
'Marcel'  
'I'll do it'  
'I'm doing it'

In the middle of trying to type of a reply a loud honk broke through the formerly stifling silence of the cul-de-sac. Marcel hadn't realized just how close he was to the edge of his bed until then, the noise startling him right off it as more message dings jingled in his ears. He groaned and clumsily reached for this phone, not even bothering to delete his half typed reply.

'What is going I get it I'll be right there.'

After collecting himself off the ground and grabbing a jacket he tip-toed past Amanda's room like some teenager sneaking out. As his heart attack was beginning to pass he realized something; Robert had gotten up to hang out with him. Marcel swallowed the sudden lump in his throat, trying to will away the warmth in his cheeks before he opened the door, wanting to look cool and composed and not as flustered as he was starting to feel. 

Robert was there on the driver's side, most likely preparing another disruptive honk should Marcel take any longer. He closed the front door as quietly as he could before heading towards the truck.

"Nice jammies."

"What? Oh." Marcel glanced down only to discover he hadn't bothered changing. Well, between walking out of the house in pug print pants and no pants he'd rather take the former. he thought about changing, but that'd require going all the way back inside. "Thanks. I thought you weren't up."

They both got in the truck. "I wasn't, but I am now. So, where to?" Marcel furrowed his brow, throwing a look at Robert. Not once in the time frame of them becoming friends had he chosen the destination of the evening. It was always Robert leading him along to here or there and he was content to keep it that way.

"Well, if we're throwing rocks at shit I think I'd prefer we do it in a car free zone. I can't afford another window on my already heavy conscious." Maybe that was why he couldn't sleep, still plagued by that damage he caused and did not pay for. That poor car, so undeserving of such a monstrous act. His forlorn expression must have been amusing, the low rumble of Robert's chuckle audible for just a breath. "I dunno... You're better at picking places out."

"Sweet, lets go check out the woods." Marcel threw him another look.

"Absolutely not!" He insisted, it taking a lot of self discipline to not slam his hand down on the dashboard ( he'd done it once before and Robert made him walk the highway for five minutes before picking him back up ). Robert laughed again, his truck picking up speed in that kind of careless night time driving way. Nervously Marcel glanced forward, tracking the streets being turned on. "Seriously, dark words at three in the damn a.m. are not a good idea. Isn't that the witching hour? I really can't afford to run into any witches right now, my life is hard enough without any curses." Even as he protested he knew he'd be walking his happy ass around the shitty spooky woods.

Marcel resigned to his fate, chewing on his tongue. Maybe it wouldn't be that bad. Maybe Robert was bluffing. They'd get to the edge of the woods, throw rocks into the tree line, hear a noise, then book it and go get slushies instead. Now that sounded great. Shit, how he really wanted a slushie.

"Shit, I really want a slushie." 

While Robert was a man who appreciated silence he was beginning to understand that it was an unrealistic expectation for Marcel to avoid every single impulse outburst his tongue had. Sometimes sacrifices had to be made in the name of friendship. "Okay." They pulled into the small parking lot of a liquor store and Marcel cursed under his breath. No! Slushies were supposed to come after the woods! Here his plans were being foiled right in front of him. 

The Youth at the front counter paid them no mind as they entered, looking so checked out it might have been possible to walk away with their delicious frozen beverages in hand and not pay. "You know cherry coke is the best right?" Robert informed him as they approached the machine, picking out the biggest size there was. Marcel shrugged.

"It's okay."

"It's the best. Last time I had a friend say it was just okay they ended up getting a different flavor and straight up kicked the bucket right there in the middle of the store. Poor old James John Jamerson. Allergic to artificial banana. That's why you always go with cherry coke. It's reliable. You ever heard of someone allergic to cherry coke? No. That's why it's the best. You can count on it, just goes to show it pays to be consistent." 

Marcel nodded dimly, not catching about half of it but knowing it was probably all bullshit. Probably. Robert had the incredible knack of looking so dead serious when he went on those kind of tangents it was hard to not believe him. His delivery was so spot on. "I'm not getting banana." Instead he got cherry on the bottom and blue raspberry on the top. Hell yeah. Robert stole a sip of it and gave his approval, saying it was no cherry coke, but it was acceptable. Their friendship could remain. Marcel cheered. The cashier continued not paying attention to them. 

They paid for their goodies, which also included a few candy bars, and returned to the truck. Marcel had almost forgotten where they were going, his heart sinking once it hit him. Even the sweet beverage could not fully console him. Slouching in his seat, he at first tried to distract himself with the sound of Santana playing quietly from the stereo, but his mind was quick to wander and he forced it away from all of the potential deaths the forest would have to offer him this evening... morning. Morneve? Evemorn? Whatever. Marcel ended up thinking about the very man next to him, how Robert had gotten up for him without question. He felt sort of bad for it, actually, slouching down a little more in the seat.

"You didn't have to get up, you know." An unimpressed grunt and a warning glance were given to him. "Right... enjoying the quiet now." He silenced himself with his slushie, sipping slowly to try and avoid a brain freeze. It didn't work. At least Robert was paying attention to the road and not the ridiculous face Marcel had just made. 

Far too soon the truck was coming to a stop just at the edge of the woods. Marcel slouched even lower, just barely able to see over the dashboard. "Why don't YOU go explore and I'll stay behind to, uh, watch the truck. Can't have any cryptids going after the truck. That'd be super bad." Marcel knew his argument was unconvincing by the stare Robert fixed onto him.

"I didn't drag my ass outta bed for you to be a chicken. You're better than that." Robert said before getting out of the truck. Marcel just whined and thought to himself, 'I'm not better than that,' but he got out as well. Pure evil energy radiated from the treeline, a breeding ground for all sorts of bad things that wanted to consume the finely aged entrails of Dads. Not even the sweet taste of the slushie could calm his nerves. Robert clapped a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it, an overconfident upturn to his lips that couldn't quite be considered a smile, but it was close enough. Almost reassuring. Almost.

"Enough wasting time, we march." He turned on a flashlight ( where did he even get that? ) and took the role of brave leader, the hand still on Marcel's shoulder nudging him along until they were both walking at a reasonable pace for forest exploration. "Now, if you see any cryptids remain calm," Robert's mouth was suddenly far too close to Marcel's ear and he could feel every single word, "they feed on fear. And human flesh."

"Really?!" Marcel yapped a little too loud for the surrounding quiet of the woods. He groaned. Robert laughed, low and raspy and not quite as close anymore, the light bobbing lazily. 

"Probably." Well, that wasn't reassuring. Marcel was really going to have to do some heavy cryptid research after this, assuming he survived the night. How far were they going in? How long were they going to 'explore'? Was he ever going to see his beautiful daughter again? Oh, dear, sweet Amanda... he should have left her a note. Maybe if he died his ghost could go and haunt her, then he wouldn't really have to let her go for college, he could be by her side until she passed on and they could chill out as ghosts together. Or finally he'd be able to pass on and they could finally be reunited with her father.

Oh. 

Now he was sad. Now he was very sad and very scared and he wished Robert didn't dislike small talk so much. The woods were dark, all the trees seeming to lean towards them, the flashlight causing too many warped shadows. It was quiet. Much too quiet. Marcel decided he'd much rather look at this place from far away as opposed to explore it in the dead of night and also that he was never going camping again. Robert's hand was on his shoulder again, stopping him. 

"You hear that?"

"What? I don't he-"

"Listen, closely." 

Marcel strained his ears. An owl hooted softly. "I think it's an owl."

A stick broke behind them, both bodies whipping around. "A... deer?" An owldeer? Wasn't there something like that in Harry Potter? Marcel desperately tried to remember if it was friendly or not. "Lets.. can we go back? I've got a bad case of the heebie jeebies and I'm not afraid to admit that." He'd never know that Robert was ready to agree, the answer cut short by a scream that made their blood turn to ice in their veins. Again it came, a cacophony of high pitched yowling that didn't sound like it belonged in their realm of existence. 

"The Dover Ghost!" They belted in unison and, like the sensible, brave fathers that they were they immediately started running for their lives. Suddenly Marcel couldn't distinguish which way they'd come from of which way they were headed, trying to desperately follow the bob of Robert's flash light. The car, they needed to get back to the car, but the trees weren't getting any thinner and the howling wasn't getting any quieter. Why had they thought this was a good idea? Oh, wait! Marcel hadn't! He looked over his shoulder, trying to determine through the darkness if they were being followed or not, but as he looked ahead again the light that was Robert was further away. Marcel hadn't even realized he was slowing down. 

"H-hey! Robert! Wait up!" Shit, shit, shit, shit. He tried to follow the light, pushing through pushes and narrowly avoiding getting smacked in the face by low hanging branches, but he lost it. Tears sprung to his eyes as the horrifying realization that he was alone in the woods being chased by baying demons hit him like a ton of bricks. More than that he was worried for Robert. The guy may have a ton of knives on him, but he also seemed like the type to have a death wish and poor impulse control if someone wasn't there to be the voice of 'hey maybe DON'T do that'. Marcel gripped his slushie cup like his life depended on it for a good minute as quiet settled back around him. One shaking hand fumbled in his pocket for his phone. No signal. Damn, there went his long winded message telling her just how much he loved her. At least he could use it for a light.

The best thing he could do was try to retrace his steps, which might have been easy if it wasn't dark as hell and all of it didn't look the same. "I am going to give Robert SUCH a piece of my mind if we make it home!" No more Mister Nice Guy, nuh uh, this was terrible and he deserved an apology. He wondered if all the cryptids could hear just how hard his heart was pounding against his chest. What if that attracted them? He groaned miserably. 

Marcel couldn't be sure how long he was walking for, all he knew was that he really should have done some stretches before all that running. It didn't feel like he was making any progress. Maybe he was going in circles. Maybe this whole forest was a cryptid. No, that was stupid. He heard a twig snap somewhere behind him, whipping around to watch as the pale moonlight that filtered through the trees gave him just enough to see a figure lumbering towards him. A huge, hulking, shadowy beast probably packed full of fangs and claws that were perfect for ripping apart human flesh.

He screamed, dropping his phone by accident. Using all of his self defense knowledge that he'd gained from watching the animal channel Marcel whipped the top of his slushie cup off and threw what remained in the cup at his to-be attacker, like some sort of fruity beverage spitting octopus. He heard an immediate growl and then... a curse? And, wait, oh no. 

"The fuck, man?"

Marcel dropped to scramble for his phone, raising it up once it was safely in his hand and pointing the light at one very disgruntled Robert Small with purple slush dripping down his face. "Oh my god." He didn't know whether or not he should laugh or cry, some horribly awkward combination of the two coming out of him. A hiccuping sob-laugh as he rubbed his at own eyes fiercely while Robert tried to wipe the slush off his face. 

"You deserved that for dragging me out here." He felt better, suddenly. A lot better. Robert scowled, but his expression was quick to soften and then they were both laughing together without really knowing why. An arm was slung over his shoulder and Marcel liked that, at least it'd be harder to lose him now.

"My lights dead, lets get outta here." Robert was to the point as ever, cool as a cucumber. As if they both hadn't just been running around like chickens with their heads cut off all because of a few wild animals in the woods and he hadn't been assaulted with runny slushie. Somehow they navigated their way back to where the truck was, sweaty, out of breath, and one of them a little sticky, but they both still had all their limbs so Marcel considered it a success. 

"I don't ever want to do that again." He declared as they got into the truck, suddenly finding it hard to keep his eyes open. 

"I thought it was fun." Robert never got a response to that, Marcel already using the window as a pillow. Guess all he needed was a good scare to get him to sleep. Now that was something to keep in mind. 

The ride back to the cul-de-sac was an easy one, quiet snores providing soft back ground noise alongside the music. Robert pulled into the driveway of Marcel's house, he couldn't bring himself to wake the man up and settled for the next best option. It was a little awkward hauling the man into his arms and involved some very determined grunting, but he managed it. Thankfully Marcel was dead to the world, not even baying of hell hounds would be able to rouse him. The front door was open, something he'd have to scold the man about later. 

Just as he walked into the house one still half asleep Amanda emerged from the kitchen. She paused and squinted, thankfully not having the gut reaction of screaming like her father. "Whatever happened, I don't wanna know," she decided, too tired for this right now. Before she retreated to the room she made the 'i'm watching you' gesture to Robert, who simply nodded in acknowledgement. That was fair. He continued down the hall to Marcel's room, which he'd only been in once before. They didn't exactly spend time indoors unless it was a bar, unless one wanted to count the several times they'd crashed in a heap of drunken fatherly messes on either of their couches. 

Robert dumped Marcel onto the bed, getting no more response than a low groan and a cutely disgruntled expression. He didn't know what he was waiting around for, lingering like he expected an invitation to stay or something. With a sigh Robert turned, only to reconsider and do one last thing. Facing the bed again he reached out, pushing the pink dyed locks off Marcel's forehead and bent to place a kiss there. Why? Fuck if he knew. It didn't linger long, Robert pulling back slowly and awkwardly adjusting his jacket. "Night." He took his leave then, crashing hard the minute he hit his bed. It'd been a good night.


End file.
